The Gypsy’s Ribbon:Tales of the Evangelique
by Pixieblade
Summary: Arg! There be pirates and AUs and blatant 58 action ahead me scurvy dogs! Or something like that... XD
1. The Ghostly Galleon Awaits!

**The Gypsy's Ribbon: Tales of the Evangelique and Her Dastardly Crew**

Saiyuki AU

Mainly 58; squint **real** hard, maybe there are others.

M-for safety.

_Pt. 1: A Ghostly Galleon Awaits!_

Adrian wanted to kick someone. Oh sure, _technically_, the fat clout could do whatever he wanted with him, that was his crap luck for being born a slave, but if the guy grabbed his ass or leered at him one more time he was going to take the next bowl of boiling soup and smash his pudgy little piggy face in it!

Twisting his hips out of range of the guy's greasy fingers he grabbed the two trays full of watery soup, more water than actual potatoes and broth, and the overfull tankards of ale and two hard chunks of bread. _They're_ _like bricks_, he thought humorlessly. _Well, there's a reason they called them 'hard tacks' out at sea and this is a seaside inn._

The door creaked open noisily and he instinctively curled in over the food as an icy wind whipped through the run down tavern. A black clad figure paused in the doorway only long enough to give a quick glance around the dusty room and then shifted ever so slightly until he was out of the path of the heavy oaken door, shutting it as quietly as he could.

_A cautious one, eh?_ Adrian had seen all types in his life time, so there should be no reason for his eyes to dawdle on the lanky figure. He absently placed the food he was carrying on the table, almost spilling the soup down one brawny tank of a man's trousers, before he realized he was staring again. Something drew him towards the dark cloaked figure. What was the saying his Gran had always muttered, _curiosity killed the cat?_

Sharp eyes, eh, _eye_, peered up through a fringe of dark molasses colored hair. The left eye was a brilliantly flashing emerald backlit by the rolling hearth fire behind him. The right eye appeared just a shade or two off being faintly obscured by a single gold rimmed monocle. His features were of the serene 'just don't move to quick' variety and Adrian could have waxed poetically about how finely his cheek bones were etched into the alabaster perfection of his Roman features…if he knew what 'waxing poetically' meant of course.

As it was for some reason he felt like a child in front of this quiet, polite and apparently well-bred man. Drawing himself up to his full height he figured he was a good inch or so taller had the other not been wearing heeled boots, ship boots, he noticed; he inclined his head slightly and tried his best to appear anything but the uneducated slave he was.

"Your pleasure, sir?"

"Yes…a light ale and perhaps something from the kitchen? What would you recommend?"

Adrian would have sworn the insides of his brain were being bore into by the man's gaze. He drew a shaky breath and whispered conspiratorially to the other man while leaning in slightly closer than was _strictly_ necessary.

"Well, the lady makes a decent roast, but I wouldn't try the soup if you wanted to be up and about on the 'morrow." Adding a belated, "M'Lord," to his flogging worthy comment because he was sure this finely clad gentleman was some form of lord, even if possibly a younger son.

"Hmm…well then, since I do have things to do when the day breaks again I shall take your advice as scripture and order a small plate of the roast instead."

Adrian nodded his understanding and turned on his heel to get the food, pausing only when he heard the soft cough and turned back, eyebrow raised quizzically skyward.

"Sir?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a deck of cards about, would you?"

"Yes, sir. It's on the hearth mantle there. I'll get your food now." He stated flatly, his tone rather clipped and body tense. Was it his imagination or did the stranger frown slightly at his tone?

Adrian felt his hopes dash against the harsh fissures of reality, the man was nothing more than a common gambler, possibly a highwayman; perhaps his cautious nature was one learned from the realities of being a cheat instead of high-born like he'd initially thought. He sighed as he jumped away from searching fingers, again, and told his Mistress of the order.

She glanced back through the kitchen door and hummed slightly, "Keep an eye on that one; seems to me that trouble be followin' on his heels." She drawled lazily while raking the newcomer over with a well trained eye.

"Yes, 'um."

"Now, see here, what I be tellin' you 'bout speakin' like that?" She admonished, waving an extremely sharp knife around the tiny kitchen.

Adrian smiled broadly and canted his hips, hand firmly planted on one while the other waggled a finger in the air. Pitching his voice he imitated her ever famous line, "Just 'cause you was born in the gutter don't mean you gotta talk liken' the trash!"

She swatted at him playfully and scowled before handing over the plate, "Just you be rememberin' that whelp!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" he called out and smiled as he pushed through the swinging doorway. The Inn's Mistress was a good woman, decent, giving everyone their just share of insult and praise until she decided if she liked you or not. Luckily for Adrian she'd been the one to find him and bring him in off the streets, insisting on his room and board at the Inn; not necessarily 'gentle,' but her hand had always been fair to him.

Schooling his face into the impassive one of a cowed down and beaten tavern boy, _boy?_ At twenty-three winters could he really call himself 'boy' anymore? But that was neither here nor there. Schooling his face his eyes darted around the room. The stranger had a rousing game of cards going on a back table and from the menacing aura coming from his cohorts he didn't seem to be loosing. _Because he's cheating_, Adrian thought darkly. He had no love for cheats or liars.

Adrian wasn't a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn't cheat. That was his one rule. Okay, he had two rules, don't cheat and don't get caught with your trousers down, _ever_. He'd learned that the hard way. A shiver coursed down his spine as his mind slipped back in time…

There was a subtle pressure at his elbow and a soft voice in his ear before he knew it and it took all his willpower to not flinch from the touch.

"Is that perhaps mine? It does look much more appetizing than the soup, thank you. I'll take my meal and ale at my previous table by the fire if I can?" His eyes snapped up and met the haunting green ones of the gambler. He sucked in a quick breath, tasting the smoke and hops in the air, the sharp smell of salt and leather polish, and under every thing, the faint hint of cardamom and honey from the roast between them.

Finding that trying to make his mouth move and actual intelligent speech come out seemed to be a hopelessly lost cause he smiled faintly and nodded, his eyes still shadowed by dark memories. It wasn't fair of him to think such dark thoughts about the other, he chastised himself, he didn't know the man and if he worked on a ship there was every reason he would know his way around a deck of cards. He'd just have to watch and wait to see if the man would be a singular visitor to their rugged inn, or if this was a chanced occasion Adrian should hope to have a repeat of. At the very least, the man was easy on the eyes and ears, even if he was still a man.

He pulled the ale off the counter and followed a few steps behind the other, noticing for the first time the silver gleam of what must be a rapier tied loosely to the man's calf. It was an odd way of carrying the sword, but if one wanted to be surreptitious about it…and especially if he had another, smaller blade tucked up at the small of his back, which Adrian just managed to make out when the man took his seat, back to the fire as before.

As he placed the hot viands in front of the stranger a quick leather clad hand jutted out from the folds of his cloak and grasped Adrian's wrist loosely.

"Wait." It was a soft murmur of command but the intensity of the other's swift flick of eyelids had him rooted to the spot, body ridged and breath shallow.

"You filthy cheat!" the metallic crashing of one of their tankards striking just inches to the left of Adrian's head had him shaking faintly from the sudden adrenaline rush. Those same leather fingers bore down slightly against his flesh as the other stood languidly, the motion rocking Adrian forward towards the man's lean form.

"I promise you, sir, I do not cheat. And your behavior, even if I were, is uncalled for. If you have a concern over our game I would be more than happy to take a walk outside with you and discuss it." His voice was the same lightly pleasant tone he'd maintained since entering the Gypsy's Ribbon a scant half hour before, but his eyes had taken on a deadly gleam Adrian was sure the drunkard couldn't see.

He inclined both head and free hand towards the door in an attempt to persuade the other to leave with him, but the drunk was too far gone to notice the pleasantries. The brute lunged at them and would have hit Adrian square on had the stranger not spun him quickly and pressed him up close against his own chest as he danced out of the others range.

Adrian barely had time to register the close contact before he found himself sitting backwards in the others spot on the bench, blinking up at the deadly scene with wide eyes and rapidly beating heart. The drunk was face to face with a very sharp and nasty looking little etched dagger pressed against his jugular, half leaning forward as he let the momentum of his punch lead him forward. The stranger had lunged deeply, his legs splayed in a balanced L as he ducked under his attackers' arm and reached up through the break between them.

"Ah, hah," the soft laugh broke the tension in the room remarkably well considering the circumstances, "My dear fellow, I do believe you need to go home and rest. It seems this fine establishment's drink has made you a bit unsteady. Is there a compatriot of yours that could escort you? We wouldn't want you getting hurt on the way home." He ended the sentence quizzically and a few equally red-faced men wandered forward to pull their friend from harm's way and out the door.

"Oh dear, I don't believe they paid." He quipped as he stood up straight, pocketing the dagger, a frown pulling the edges of his lips as he fingered the edge of his calf-length cloak.

"'Tis fine dear, we're much happier to have all the furniture intact and no bloody cleaning to do. Adrian!" A rough voice stated from the kitchen doorway.

"Ma'am!" He snapped to attention at his mistress's voice, almost tripping over the legs of the bench as he stood hastily.

"Take the man upstairs and get him cleaned up. It may not look it sir, but the boy can mend almost anything, he'll fix that tear quick as can be."

Adrian gaped at her open mouthed as he tried to imagine why she was pushing him out of the main room. The other smiled at him, a little more naturally he thought, and gently closed Adrian's mouth with a gloved finger before turning back to the Inn Mistress.

"I'd be grateful, M'Lady, cloaks do not work as well with holes in them I'm afraid." He wiggled a finger through the button sized hole disheartedly, sighing dramatically for effect.

Adrian couldn't think, he just started walking and by the time they were up the stairs and in his room he'd processed only that his wrist hurt dully from where the other had held onto him and that he wished he smoked, the tobacco would probably take the edge off right about now.

"Adrian." He jumped, he couldn't help it, his name, those lips and voice, his brain was in complete overload with all the conflicting sensory images.

"Ye-yes…" he stuttered and ran a dirty hand through his red hair to cover his nervousness; he'd never been this attracted and yet terrified of another human being before.

The green-eyed demon in men's flesh was by his side instantly, his gloved hands taking his dirty ones from his crimson hair and gently turning them palm up, stretching the fingers slightly until his hand burned.

"I'm sorry, I tried to be as gentle as possible, but I must have miscalculated during the squabble."

"Eh?" he asked intelligently and then shook his head dismissively as realization set in, "No, it's nothing. It's just slightly bruised. It should be fine by tomorrow. I'm fine sir, really." He made to pull his hand back but the other held on tightly.

"Julien."

"Beg pardon?" he asked confused.

"Julien. Julien Hartford. And it is not alright. I am deeply sorry to have hurt you." He stroked the purpling flesh with the pad of his thumb and Adrian shivered at the feel of leather skipping over his skin.

Julien's green eyes narrowed for a breath before he pulled back his hand, "I'm sorry, I took liberties that I should not have…"

Adrian reflexively caught the retreating hand and opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to let his brain catch up with his body, "No! I mean, it's not that, I just…leather gloves, I don't like them." He whispered, uncharacteristically quiet as an involuntary shudder worked its way down his spine.

Adrian dropped his head in a vain attempt to hide his flushed face behind his scarlet hair. It might have worked too if Julien hadn't stepped in even closer and pushed one leather clad hand through the limp strands. With half his hair pushed out of his eyes he had no choice but to watch as Julien raised the other to his mouth and with perfectly ivory teeth that were just slightly pointed tugged the other glove off one finger at a time.

Adrian's mouth was as dry as parchment. He felt feverish and _knew_ his eyes were wide as dinner plates as the other discarded the glove onto the side table and flexed the long pale fingers before running their tips lightly over his cheek and lips.

Julien rubbed a little harder at the corner of his mouth and smiled, "You have dust on your face." He murmured softly, a light teasing tone that made Adrian push off and scrub manically at the spot with the back of his hand.

"If you're quite through with teasing me, _Sir_, I'll mend that cloak of yours now." He pouted angrily as Julien chuckled and for once he thought it sounded genuine. Grabbing the torn cloak he pulled a thread and needle from his dresser drawer and quickly stitched the small rip while Julien leaned against the footboard of his bed, his fingers trailing along the threadbare coverlet with undisguised distaste and yet somehow managing to appear reverent at the same time.

"Yes, yes, I shouldn't tease you so much; I should just get on with what I wanted to do the minute I walked in…" Adrian was just snipping off the knotted thread with his teeth when he raised his eyes to glance at Julien before soft lips were pressed up against his own and a velvet clad knee worked its way between his legs. The needle and cloak fell to the floor in a tumbled heap as he rocked backwards onto his heels.

He had a moment of panic as he fought with the ghosts of his past, but a soft nip to his bottom lip and gentle puff of warm breath against his own as Julien's single gloved hand rested against the small of his back as he was pressed carefully up against the wall of his small room. The tender actions had him moaning into the kiss, his body arching gently at each touch of cool leather and warm flesh as they traveled along his arms and back.

Julien rubbed small, soothing circles into his shoulders, gently massaging his neck and helping ground him in the here and now; pulling him back from the darkness that constantly threatened to envelop him in other men's presences. "Stay with me." He whispered when one last shudder worked its way down his spine. Taking a shaky breath Adrian opened his eyes to peer into Julien's hooded emerald ones. They were dark with emotion, but there was no anger, no hate there, just a longing Adrian had never witnessed before. It made his heart ache as Julien pulled away to lean against him, head bowed into his chest, hair gently cascading over the edges of his shoulder and his body trembling lightly.

"Adrian…I have to leave too soon for my liking. However, should I come again, would I be welcomed here?" He raised his eyes and peered into Adrian's. "Would _you_ welcome me?"

"I'm not…I'm not of proper standing to deny anyone." A frown darkened Julien's face and he hastily added, "However, I won't bar my door to _you_."

He couldn't figure it out. He hated men in general and preferred the company of women, but this man, _Julien_…somehow he'd crawled in under his skin. Even now, with the man himself standing so closely pressed up against his chest that he could feel the thrumming of his pulse and heartbeat, his mind was completely consumed with thoughts of him. It was like he'd managed to find some nice warm nook in his heart and nest in it.

"Adrian…I shall endeavor to come again, I swear. I must away now though." He pressed sure lips against his again and then turned on his heel and retrieved both ruined cloak and abandoned glove. Pausing by the bed stand he fingered something in his pocket and then quickly fled the room without a backwards glance.

Hearing the Inn keeper's deep voice below he turned and threw open the small window, watching as Julien took one last glance back over his shoulder, their eyes meeting for a moment before his horse cantered back towards the docks.

Adrian sat heavily on the bed and fingered his own lips, _what in the world had just happened?_

He glanced at the window and then at the door, his eyes falling on the small shimmering item on his bed side table. Drawing his eyebrows together in a frown he stood shakily and walked over. Reaching out a tentative finger to lightly stroke the soft evergreen ribbon he grinned. Well, he hadn't been dreaming, that was a good start. Looping the thick cord around his wrist he covered the small finger shaped bruises and smiled softly.

It might be childish, but he wanted to keep the encounter all to himself. _Until the next time_, he thought. Until the next time.

~Tbc.


	2. Penny For Your Thoughts?

_Ch. 2: Penny For Your Thoughts?_

The next time and the one after that and the one after that came and went all too quickly for Adrian's tastes. Julien would come with the rising moon and tide and be gone in the morning. The Mistress seemed to know what was going on, even her 'husband' seemed to realize something was up with their _pet_, but she didn't say anything. She did seem to take pleasure in making him do the hardest physical labor on the days following their rendezvous' however.

"The perverse old bitch," he grumbled under his breath.

"OW! What'd ya' do that for?!" He squawked, the growing nub of bruised flesh goose-egging redly under his fingers.

A 'Hmph!' from the Mistress was his answer as he hunkered down on sore legs and backside and went back to peeling the stack of rhubarb for her pies.

"Just 'cause you got some sweetnin' don't mean you get out of workin' youngin'." Her gravely voice was sweetly mocking in its light tenor.

"Julien left you some coconut sweets this time, Mistress. I'll bring them to you after dinner tonight if you'd like." He smiled amiably at her suddenly straightened back and catch of breath. _Bull's eye_, chuckling under his breath he could almost hear her mouth watering.

"Oh the grand darling. Fine, fine, you can sit on the chair and peel those. Give my most sincere gratitude to the man at the next moon rising. How are you two doing anyways?"

"Mistress…" He quibbled.

"Oh surely you don't think I can't hear you both? Just be happy my man's a sound sleeper. Though I suppose it's more you I hear versus your man. Quiet thing, ain't he? Wonder why he's like that?" She mused as his face went the way of the rhubarb, stained a bright cherry-red in embarrassment.

"I'm not…he's not…Mistress~!" Adrian whined into his hands as he buried his head, of all the people he could have this conversation with…it was like the last time his Gran had insisted on bathing him before she died, _he'd been thirteen for Christ's sake__!_

She chortled and mussed his hair lovingly, "My dear boy, some would give you heartache for this, most more than not, but I always believed that God had plans for us all and some few lucky ones are given the chance to be with their true soul mates. You two, you're a funny lot you are. I wasn't sure what to make of it that first day, but then I saw that there ribbon and the marks beneath it. He marked you like that brand on your forearm. But his I think holds no malice, no buying and selling from that one. Be 'ware though, he's the type to want to posses and posses fully."

"I know. It's too late though. I never thought I'd say it. I can't stand my lot, you know that, I respect and love you Mistress like my Gran before you, but your man, most men, I cannot stand the closeness of them. The over familiarity that they think they can pass on me because of this marking." Adrian fingered the King's crest burned into his flesh, "Julien's not like them though. He knew my lot when he met me, and still he asked. He asked! They never ask." He ground out darkly.

"Like I said, he's a good one, but there's a trouble doggin' him you need to watch for. It may be you're the shield he needs to raise to fend it off, may not." She shrugged and dropped the freshly chopped vegetables into the pot to cook down before adding a scant cup of the new sugar they'd gotten off a ship in port.

"What do you think I should do Mistress?" He asked softly while the flush of heat as his body remembered their clinging, needy touches made his hands shake. He fumbled with the paring knife, the edge skimming over his thumb, sharp tip piercing the plump flesh, a small well of scarlet blood oozing up from the wound. Adrian stared at it morbidly before dragging it up to his lips and sucking the bruised flesh into his mouth.

The sensation caused him to remember the feel of Julien's tongue lapping at his flesh, the warm dampness of their bodies writhing against each other in the moonlight. Hands fisted in hair and sheets, toes curling inward as they pushed to the edges of their endurance and cried the names of saints and sinners to the heavens.

He let his mind wander while he lapped at the purpling flesh, he recalled that first night a few months back when the days had slipped past one after another like a dream. Adrian fretted that Julien wouldn't return and then fumed because he'd been concerned in the first place. What did it matter if the man never came for him again? What did he care if it was all just a momentary lapse in judgment on both of their parts? He didn't even know the man! Sure he'd been pleasant enough on both the eyes and ears, he'd been quick and sure witted and strong and had been both calculating and courageous during the quick fight he'd probably edged the drunk into, but what did all that matter? It didn't, not in the least.

Until there was a rapping on his window one night a few weeks later. Adrian rubbed sleep smeared eyes and climbed reluctantly out of bed. It was coming on winter and the hard wooden floorboards groaned and creaked under his weight. His feet prickled as he shuffled across the floor and wearily unlatched the shutters. There was a shifting of moonlight and shadows as he found himself face to face with the man he'd tried so hard to banish from his thoughts.

Julien straightened slowly and rolled his head to the side, his hair falling out of his eyes to reveal a hungry, feral look that might have bordered on possessed if Adrian had been less generously inclined.

"Julien."

"Adrian. I'm sorry I roused you from your bed. It is a cold night; perhaps you should wear something a bit more to sleep in from now on." He nodded to Adrian's single almost threadbare shift and raised his eyebrow delicately.

Adrian took a moment to make his sleep addled mind decipher the cryptic comment and then blushed hotly before canting his sharp hips and drawling, "Well sir, it is you who have come in unannounced, what made you think I would be alone?"

Julien's dancing eyes turned hard as he clamored over the window sill and crossed the room in a heartbeat, leather clad hands snaking around Adrian's waist. He could feel the bite of sharp nails through the tips as they dented the soft skin of his hip. The possessive look was back and this time Adrian knew what would happen.

Rolling his head to the side, crimson-hair cascading around his face his breath hitched as Julien pulled him in crushingly against his chest and clamped down hungrily on the tender juncture of neck and throat.

Murmuring into the flesh, his tongue lightly lapping at the abrasions his sharp teeth had caused, he declared hotly, "No others Adrian, you hear me? I will brook no argument in this one demand. If you accept me now then you are mine until we cross the River Stix and even then I might not part with you. Agree love; be mine, now and forever."

Adrian's stomach rolled in his belly; he felt his breath slow, the light gasping sounds harsh and loud in his ears. Why he would ever allow this he didn't know, but it felt right to be like this, to be owned by this man.

"Julien..."

"Mine, Adrian, all mine." Julien brushed feather light kisses up the side of Adrian's neck and shoulder. His grip was still unbreakable steel, but the breath skipping across his skin was tattered as he clung on desperately, almost fearfully waiting for Adrian's answer.

"Julien…" He whispered, voice raw with emotion; he'd never actually had to deal with someone wanting him. Let alone asking him to want him in return.

"Mine Adrian, if you'll have me…if you'll always have me…"

"Yes…" Why he'd let this man's voice and touch buy and sell him he'd probably never understand, but he would, he knew it as they stood there in the filtered moonlight.

He knew it again as they fell together onto his too small bed. As he whispered into the night and prayed to God that he was in his right mind even as they sinned against Heaven.

"Yes, Julien..." He wondered briefly if he'd just sold his soul to the devil. As Julien's teeth once more clamped down on his throat he realized that he didn't care. He'd wait for Julien until the end of days and back again; he was sure of it.

***

"Adrian." Her voice was soft, a warning he knew only too well and it cut through his daydream like the paring knife had his skin. Standing quietly he slipped to the window and glanced out into the courtyard. The _tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot _of horse hoofs sounded all too clearly in the thin morning air as a squad of Red Coats clattered into the stable yard. He nodded once to his Lady and slipped behind the stairs and into the secret hide-away there. In some respects it was a good thing the Inn keeper was a paranoid conspiracy fiend, he supposed.

He watched through the hidey-holes as the six burly guards stomped into the inn and accosted the other guests until most had fled, leaving but a few fiercely loyal men behind. He recognized one as a sailor, a larger man than himself, but not as massively built as the ones who recently entered. He appeared to be in his early thirties with short cropped spiky raven black hair, a scar across his nose, and bright eyes that belied an adventurous spirit if he read the man correctly. Always smiling or laughing with those who spoke to him he seemed a genuinely jovial individual who came in a few times a month around the full moon. _Just like Julien_, he thought.

He'd been around more this last pair of months, a few days in a row and then gone for a span of weeks and then back again. He played a friendly hand of cards with small wagers of drink or dinner and joked with the Lady over the sad state of proper sweets coming into the country. Actually, Adrian liked the guy. It was odd, but he'd felt a companionable comfort with the older man, it was as though he was an older brother. He blamed Julien for this change in himself. The other had so readily accepted him and treated him as just another person. He wasn't use to it.

Same with this man, he thought. What was his name again now…something foreign…Pietro! Pietro Vincenzo. He was from Italy if he remembered correctly. Worked on a ship…

"Silence that tongue, you old _hag_, before we decide you're better off without it." One of the Red Coats growled into the sudden silence of the room.

Adrian clenched his fists, dirty nails denting the flesh dangerously. _Speak to her like that again son of a whore and I'll be the one taking out your tongue._ He barely caught himself; hand on the latch, his entire body trembling in anger.

"Scusarmi il signore..."

Adrian gasped and peered through the hole in the wall. Pietro was leaning against the hearth place, the backlighting making him appear more threatening then he was and idly picking at his nails with a small silver etched dagger. Adrian frowned; it looked very familiar to him.

"Mind your business sailor; this is an English problem and we'll deal with this _bitch_ ourselves!"

Pietro shrugged nonchalantly and tossed the dagger in the air lightly; the shimmering tip flipping effortlessly end over end.

"It's s'okay son, no harm been done here…" The Mistress feigned a polite smile until the same soldier cracked his open fist against her mouth, the force of the strike sending blood and saliva flinging across the room as she fell backwards over an upturned chair.

Adrian saw red. Before he knew it there was a heavy fry pan between him and the assailant, the once pristine dagger sticking arrow straight out of another throat, the sickening sound of gurgling life washing around his ears as the pan was raised again and again until there was only a huddled, bloody mess of shattered pottery-like skull and gray mater sticking to the pan and his hands. His clothing was a ruined mess. _He_ was a ruined mess. This display of hot fury pressed in against his chest until he couldn't breathe, couldn't see or hear or taste anything but sticky copper hanging upon him like a cloak. Death now walked with him and by law they could shoot him down like a dog in the highway without a second thought.

They could and probably would had he still been in the inn. Blinking rapidly into the midday sunlight his brow furrowed in confusion he suddenly blanched as he remembered what he'd done. He'd killed a man.

He'd _killed_ a man.

"I'm going to be ill." He wheezed.

"Not until we're at the docks, no one'd think anything of a man relieving his stomach down there. Hang on a bit farther Adrian. We shall be home soon."

"We? Home? What?" He really couldn't take any more of this; his mind was in a fog of gruesome images and mindless terror.

"Sì, noi. The Captain asked me to keep an eye on you, so I do, and what happens? Idiot English dogs come baying too close before it's time, now we must move everything up. Captain shall be mighty furious at this change of events."

"Captain?"

Pietro gave him a skeptical glance over his shoulder and paused by the roadside, lifting Adrian's still trembling figure off his shoulder where he'd apparently been slung like a sack of potatoes and eyed him up and down.

"Julien Hartford. He's Captain of _The Evangelique_. I'm his second under Giovanni. You're with the Captain, no? He brought me one night, showed me who you were and said to watch out for you when we were in port. It was amusing, watching your people. The Inn Dame, she's full of spit-fire that one."

He sighed, "You're a right mess. If I take you back like this the Captain'll have my head. Here, rinse off your face and hands at least." Pietro tossed his water cask at him and he doused his head and arms in the flagon of water.

He took a moment to uncork the skin with his teeth before dousing his hands, scrubbing at the bloody surface until he realized part of it was stained from the pies. Taking a shaky breath he drenched his hair, twisting the scarlet strands until the water ran clear. "So, what now?"

"Now we sail. Have to make port again in a few days, maybe at the Lizard's Head, we just have to see." He shrugged again as Adrian stared dumbfounded.

"_Sail?!_" His voice broke on the last syllable. He couldn't even swim!

"Sail. On a ship. You know, the kind with big white sheets and lots of ropes?"

"I'm not touched sir, I know what a ship is, but I…I've never…" Adrian made a disdainful sound in the back of his throat, he might be a bit shocked and slower than usual on the uptake, but did the man take him for a fool?

"Ah, well, we shall fix that by sundown. Come now, Captain's gonna flay me good for this one…" He murmured under his breath at his ill stroke of luck as they picked their way to the bustling side of the docks and around more than one nasty smelling mess of day old fish and other slimy sea dwellers that had been nicely baked by the sun.

_This was absolutely wretched_, he thought darkly as he miss-stepped and skidded along the walkway.

"Disgusting."

"Sì, the fish entrails, they tend to be slippery. Try not to walk on them-you smell bad enough as it is and I don't want to clean up where you go." Pietro watched as Adrian swatted at more flies than he cared to count and grumbled as they walked up the gangplank.

The Corvette class ship was a deep mahogany color and Adrian gawked at the crisp lines and smooth efficiency of both the ship and her crew. Just as Pietro said Julien was at the aft of the ship leaning over the rail when they boarded. Pietro called something out in Italian and in a moment Julien was by his side, gloved hands twisting his face back and forth and asking if he was alright just like a mother might.

"Julien…I think I really did it this time." He choked out. There was a quick movement and Julien had his short cape draped across his shoulders and he was being escorted down the laddera and over to Julien's quarters below deck.

With the door finally barred behind him and the knowledge that Pietro was stationed outside, Julien wrapped his arms around Adrian's shaking frame and held him close. Dropping his head onto Julien's shoulder, he finally let the raking sobs wash over him as everything came crashing down around his ears.

"Adrian…shh...it's alright love, it's alright. We'll be away from here by sun down and around the cape by the morrow's first light. Shh…love, I promise, _no one will touch you_." Adrian felt the deathly intent behind those words and silently prayed that he'd never have to see their falsity. He wanted them to be truth with every fiber and sinew in his body. He wanted the only truth he'd ever have to remember to be Julien's lips murmuring his love against the shell of his ear.

Only this truth.

TBC.


	3. Don't Stick Your Tongue Out At Me!

The light rapping at the door made him start awake. He yelped as he banged his head on the overhang and cracked an eye at the partially opened door.

"Oh my. I'm so sorry to intrude, however the Captain gave me orders to come and check on you. Are you alright, Mr. Adrian?"

Adrian's eyes were wide open by this point. He'd seen pretty women around the port before, but this…long ebony hair flowed around a slender waist. Delicate, pale hands clasped a small box to a rather well endowed bosom. Her nails were painted a soft pearl color while her lips sported a warm, wind burned pink tone. Blue-black eyes sparkled over high cheekbones and the soft cotton shirt and britches fitted her hourglass form, not tightly, but with a looseness that belied their efficiency for walking around ship while still being feminine.

"Mr. Adrian?" Her soft, lilting voice called again and this time he managed a shaky nod of his head as she entered and gently closed the door behind her.

"My name is Yvonne. I'm the Evangelique's healer. Captain asked me to come and check on you. I was hoping you'd come out on your own around mid-day but…well, the Captain was worried you might have taken some serious hurt during your escape, even though Pietro swore up and down you hadn't."

Adrian dragged his tongue and eyes back into his skull and attempted to have a normal conversation, "Oh. No, I'm fine. Tired I guess, but I'm physically fine. Julien sent you?"

Yvonne sat on the edge of the bed and frowned slightly, "The Captain, yes."

"Beg pardon, but you're the second person who's corrected me on this, does he not allow you to call him by name?" Adrian questioned concerned that he'd somehow unknowing blundered.

"No, it's not that. We've all known the Captain for many years now; I guess we're just a tad surprised he's taken with someone again."

"Again?" He asked his head cocked slightly as he watched her meticulously unfold bandages and small vials of red tincture.

"Yes, again. Please lay down on your stomach and let me see your back, Pietro said you'd had some nasty cuts from a broken chair…"

"Don't remember." He murmured as he turned over and laid back into the soft recesses of Julien's bed.

"The Lady Katrina. Did the Captain not tell you of her?"

Adrian hissed 'no' as she gingerly applied the tincture to his apparently abrasion covered back; he'd have to ask Pietro about those, he really couldn't remember when he'd gotten them. He remembered the fight, hitting the Red Coat and a sharp pain before Pietro's knife had dropped another assailant, but other than that…maybe he had been hit.

"The Lady Katrina was the Captain's sister…he hasn't spoken of her at all then? I'm not terribly surprised. That's her over the desk there." Yvonne nodded her chin towards the lining hanging on the wall above an intricately carved wooden writing desk, its cheery wood surface covered in crawling vine work.

The dark wooden frame held a soft doeskin parchment, the lining was a wash in the soft hues of violet and gold, a smiling face looked back at him, her soft green eyes sparkling as a fringe of pale auburn hair fluttered around her face. He sucked in a breath- it was like looking at Julien's twin!

"They were of the same birth then?" He asked incredulously.

"You noticed…that's surprising, people normally think she's his wife, not sister."

"They have the same eyes, the same smile." He pushed up out of the sheets and shakily walked to the desk, head canted backwards to see the painting better.

"She's wearing a habit though, was she a nun?" Adrian glanced back at Yvonne questioningly.

Standing elegantly, Yvonne brushed imaginary dust from her pants and walked over to him, drawing up behind him and gently placing a hand on his back.

"Please, Mr. Adrian, if you can see her in him, please help the Captain. He's so…"

"I think that's enough for today, thank you Yvonne." A steely voice stated flatly from the doorway.

Adrian glanced back and met Julien's flashing green eyes. _Oh, he was very upset._

"Beg pardon, Captain, I overstepped my bounds." Yvonne bowed her head in subjugation and turned quickly towards the door.

"Yvonne…I would appreciate more discretion from you in the future."

"Yes, Captain." She stated contritely as the door closed behind her.

"Julien…"

Julien crossed the floor and dropped a stack of papers on the table along with his hat and cloak before glancing at him again.

"I am sorry, Julien. I did not mean to pry."

Silence followed for a long moment before Julien sighed and walked over to the bed, half collapsing onto its rumpled surface.

"No, Adrian, that's fine. I am not mad at you for your curiosity. I feel slightly flattered that you are interested in me. Things are just a bit…harried at the moment. I'm glad to see Yvonne worked her magic on you. How are you feeling?"

"Truth? I've felt better, Yvonne…she has a very gentle nature about her, I barely felt the treatments. Though I must say her tale was holding most of my attention. I was surprised, you having a woman on board."

"Yes…well, as you meet the rest of the crew I'm sure you will be surprised a few more times." He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

Adrian crossed the floor and stood staring down at him, a frown pulling at the edges of his lips. "Julien…are you alright? You seem…tired."

"Ah, yes, well. We're about half a day's journey to the Lizard's Head, should make land fall by sundown."

"Sundown…that means you haven't slept at all. Julien, you must sleep, can't someone else steer for a few hours?"

Julien smiled falsely and patted Adrian's shoulder as he levered himself up, "I'm fine, thank you Adrian. We had a bit of an issue getting out of port last night, its fine now though."

"Julien, look at me!" He caught Julien's arm in a vice-like grip and held on tightly, "You do this constantly, circling the question, rephrasing something I already know! Speak to me, tell me what's happening!" Adrian gripped Julien's arm tightly, pulling the other man around to look at him, voice shaking with unvoiced distress.

Adrian eyed the man sharply, Julien's eyes were bruised and sunken, his face gaunt and pale. "You do not look as though you are just exhausted; you appear to have fought with hell itself! Now tell me what has transpired!" He demended.

Julien opened his mouth to speak when the door burst open and a young man Adrian had never seen before crashed in.

"Sir! The dogs are back! If we don't stop them now they'll find Ms. Lauren's place for sure!"

"Madre de Dios." Julien cursed lightly under his breath. "Very well Gregory, I shall be right there, tell Gino to cut back inland and try and outflank her."

"Sir!"

"Well Adrian, seems you'll get your wish, there are fresh linens in the chest under the window, dress and meet me on deck, you shall see first hand why I haven't slept."

Julien breathed out loudly before retrieving his hat and cloak from the table. Looking back at Adrian once before his cape flicked out to wreath his shoulders and then he was gone. Adrian heard the shouting and what must have been a shot fired near the ship because everything was suddenly sideways and he was scrambling in the old chest for enough clothes as to be presentable in.

He pulled out tan leather britches, a pale shirt, dark brown jerkin, leggings and boots, Julien's were a tad too tight, but he wasn't about to try and move about above deck in his sandals.

Grabbing a spare sash he tied it across his forehead to keep his hair out of the way and clamored out of the room. The hallway was full of scurrying sailors who cursed their way around his stumbling form until he managed to get to the laddera and up above.

Having secured the latch back in place he clung on desperately as the ship lurched again to the side. He never knew that ships could zig-zag through the water like his stomach was sure they were doing now.

"You witless fool!" A gravely voice shouted over the others towards him. Turning, Adrian came face to face with a wispy blonde with drooping violet-blue eyes.

"Pardon?" He forced out between clenched teeth as another shot sprayed salty water over the side in a torrent.

"Morons and landsmen should not be above deck during a fight! Even an idiot toddler knows this! What the hell are you doing up here?! You're in the way!"

"Lay off Sebastian! Captain's orders, he goes where the Captain goes!" Adrian glanced up to see Pietro by his side. Gripping his forearm tightly the older man spun him around like a limp rag-doll and half carried him to the top deck.

Julien was barking out orders, half in Italian, half in English as they approached. "Adrian, grip the rail and do not let go. Pietro! Assist Gino at the wheel, the current's fighting us tooth and nail."

Julien whipped around and shouted to the Heavens, "Gregory?! What say you? Distance?"

"Half a click ahead, sir! The bar's just over the horizon!"

"Speak sense you stupid monkey!" Sebastian's voice cut across the deck as Adrian watched in fascination as the man managed to walk across the slippery deck without holding on or stumbling for even a moment. Sebastian's dark black robes seemed to pulse around his rail thin form. Delicate hands reached out and gripped the ropes leading to the mast and clung on tightly, still yelling at the young man far above him. Adrian noticed an unusual intensity about the two of them, but couldn't quite place the feeling.

Gregory, bright blonde-brown hair blowing in the breeze as he hung off the side of the crow's nest smiled down at the surly blonde, a wide grin plastered across his face as he waved back at Julien.

"Half a league to the west, bar's shallow enough we should just make it!" He grinned widely at the man as Julien clasped Adrian on the shoulder and called out the order.

"Let loose the main sails and pull her tight to port Mr. Baptist! We'll run her ashore and pin her there!"

"You heard the man! Move it!" Pietro bellowed across deck and Adrian watched entranced as men went scrambling to loose flotsam and let out the sails.

Julien was back at his side in a minute, gilded telescope up and pressed to the non-monocle covered eye. Adrian watched him, wind tugging little wisps of coffee-colored hair across his face, wind burned cheeks and lips slightly dewed from the salty wind, cloak pulling about his waist, gently pressing against it as the wind changed and the shipped slipped sideways over their own wake.

He jerked slightly as the deck rolled and looked up startled as Julien's arm snaked around his waist, holding him up steadily against his side without ever looking at him.

"Here, take a look out towards the north-west…do you see her?" He handed Adrian the brass instrument and pointed one long gloved finger back towards the ship coming up fast behind them.

"I can see her without this." Adrian stated, telescope in hand.

"No, you see a ship, you don't see her. Look through it and see what we're up against. This will be your first sea-battle and I want you to understand why we're doing it."

Adrian gripped the metal cylinder tightly and swore, "Fine."

Squinting through the lens he swore openly, "Sweet Lady! The King's own standard!"

His eyes were wide as he turned back to face Julien's sharp line of a mouth and fiery eyes. "Not for me, certainly, Julien, what's the meaning of this?"

Julien turned and smiled at him nonchalantly. "Ah well, you see we aren't quite who we appear to be."

"Thieves? No…soldiers…"

"We're not brigands, Adrian."

Sebastian walked past them, a derisive snort escaping around a clove sweetened beedi as he paced back towards Gino and Pietro at the wheel.

"Well, not the brigands you're thinking about anyways." Julien shrugged and plastered on that fake smile again as another shot struck the water.

"Julien, would you please stop acting the dashing hero and put a stop to those idiots chasing us, I'm getting a headache!" Sebastian ground out.

"That's not a very Christian thing to say now, _Father_." Julien chimed back at the surly man.

"Tch! When the hell have you ever known me to act charitable?"

"True, true, alright then…" Julien raised his voice and called out across the deck, arm raised in a half salute to his men watching from below. "Very well men! Load them and loose them! Gino, hard to stern, lets finish this!"

Adrian gasped as Julien pressed in against him, arms on either side of his body clutching the rail, lanky frame braced for the quick snap the ship made. Adrian thought the wooden vessel would crack in half from the sudden movement, but it just cut through the waves cleanly, rocking sharply as it rose and fell, slipping through the sapphire waters and up alongside the King's frigate.

Julien stood up straight as they pulled along side the exposed ship and bowed deeply, sweeping his hat off his head in a very gentlemanly manner, except of coarse that this was apparently the signal for all guns to fire. Adrian watched in fascinated horror as the English ship was speckled with holes, loosing speed as The Evangelique slipped behind her and around her side before repeating the measure and slipping effortlessly over the sand bar they'd managed to herd her onto.

Julien slipped in against his side once more and squeezed his hand and Adrian released the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding.

"Very nicely done men. Ale at Ms. Lauren's on me tonight! Tidy up and loose the sails, let's put some distance between us, shall we?" He called out and a rousing call of bubbling excitement rolled over the crew.

Julien gripped his hand tightly and pulled him along in his wake as he made his way back below deck.

"Not going to stay, _Captain_?" A snarl came from their left and Adrian turned to look, already knowing the voice belonged to Sebastian.

"I rather think Gino can handle the rest, or are you questioning his abilities, Sebastian?"

Sebastian paled slightly and turned on his heel, a ringing smack carried as he struck the bouncing form of Gregory as the young man ventured too close to the prissy priest.

"Is he always like that?" Adrian queered, head shaking incredulously as he watched Gregory go back for even more abuse.

"They've known each other a long time. I'd venture Sebastian's abuse is second nature to Gregory by now." Julien quipped back at him unconcerned as he pulled open the door to below deck and held it open for Adrian.

"Is it really alright? Leaving like this?"

Julien paused in the corridor and looked at Adrian hard. "My crew is loyal to the death and possibly as close to family as friends can be. Sebastian can be a royal pain sometimes, but he would never betray me or question my orders without a reason. He's concerned about your presence on board." Julien tilted his head and smiled ruefully as he gently stroked Adrian's cheek.

"There's much I need to tell you, come, we haven't much time." Grasping his hand again, Julien pulled him along into the dark expanse of the bowels of the ship.

Yes, Adrian mused, there was still much to learn.

TBC.


	4. Brats shouldn't play drinking games

_**Ch. 4 Brats shouldn't play drinking games with adults.**_

"Julien…"

"Adrian, have you ever heard of _La Rosa_?" Adrian frowned at Julien's back. The black felt cloak hanging limply from his shoulders as he walked back towards their room.

"No."

"La Rosa is a secret order under the Vatican. They mainly deal with foreign espionage, although in recent generations they've taken up pillaging as well. There are some in their ranks that are even clothed in the crimson of the Cardinals."

"…"

"They are thieves and murderers, rapists and occultists. They have destroyed each and every one of this crew's lives. You asked if it was aright to leave…yes, because we all have the same goal: to find their leader and bring him down. They know that no matter what, I will not stray from this mission."

"Why? What makes you hate them so vehemently?"

Julien looked over his shoulder as he paused by the door, a cold, hate filled look of utter damnation and despair reflecting the meager light from the hallway as he grit his bared teeth.

"Because Adrian…he's my father."

Adrian paled, "Fa...father?"

"Please, inside." Adrian followed numbly, the door clicking shut behind him.

Julien sighed heavily and dropped his hat and gloves onto the table before removing the damp cloak and draping it over the back of a chair. He walked over to the small desk and pulled out two glasses and a very old bottle of whiskey. Pouring two servings he handed one over to Adrian distractedly and turned his back to him, staring up at the picture of his sister he slowly sipped the liquid fire.

"My sister Katrina and I were borne out of wedlock. The small village we were raised in shunned us and we grew un-Christianly close to each other because of that. When we were ten our mother died of pneumonic fever. That's when _he_ came. Even though she'd been suffering our mother never spoke poorly about our father. She said God had sent him to her. That He was testing her by keeping him from us. She was right in a way.

Cardinals never go anywhere alone. They don't stay in small, back-woods inns and they don't beget bastard children or poor uneducated homely women. That is why I shall never call him by title. That…_man_…is no angle sent by God. He showed up the day after her funeral. Pulled us from the grave marker and eyed us like cattle before deciding our fate. Who were we to question a _Cardinal_? Katrina…she was sent to Scotland to be a nun. I was taken with him back to Italy. Put into a seminary training school and educated to be a priest, to follow in his footsteps.

I'd have rather shot myself.

My first night he took me from the cloisters through some dark, dank alleyways and finally into the back canals of Vatican City. The underground ways are filthy, crawling with rats the size of a persons boot and just as vicious as any feral dog I've ever seen. They swarm people you know? Hunting in packs, all you hear is the insane chattering of their teeth and the _taptaptap_ of their claws on the old slate tiles. He brought me out in the dead of night, in nothing but my night shirt and a thin cloak and made me watch as those same rats were dumped by the shovelful into a pit. I didn't understand why the guards were doing it until I heard the screaming.

Children, Adrian.

There were children younger than myself in that pit. Orphans who'd committed no greater sin than being caught out in the open with no one to come for them. It was a warning to me, '_That could be you'._ Looking into his eyes, the sparkling laughter that flashed in the lamp light, he enjoyed this horror. I knew then what kind of man he was then and I quivered in fear of him. He is pure evil and I have been an unfortunate witness to too many of his atrocities over the years."

Adrian stared at his slumping back in abject horror. His measly pain had been nothing compared to Julien's and he couldn't think of a way to fix this. To make the palpable terror in the room and in his lover's heart and soul go away.

"Julien…"

"One of those horrors brought each and every member of this crew to me. In time they may tell you their stories themselves, it's not my place to say before, but Katrina. She fit well enough into the flock. She had just become a full-fledged nun before he heard about it. She sent me a letter telling me the news. I was ready to be ordained myself at the time, another month of field work in one of the small local parishes before the appointed date. I never received the letter.

One of his underlings intercepted it. Deciding our bond was too strong he sent a notice to the nunnery: demanded her and two other nuns to be sent to a known plague village to 'nurse the lost flock'. The bastard sent her to die. I will never forgive him for that." He ground out, slamming the glass down hard enough to splinter in his hand, the tiny shard of crush glass tinkling to the table top while other pierced the work calloused pads of his fingers.

"Julien!" he shouted, rushing to his side.

"Julien, please, just sit and let me go get Yvonne."

"No, I'm fine; I have to tell you the rest."

"The talk while I bandage your hand! Don't fight me on this Julien!" he snapped, worry making him forget his place.

Julien smiled softly down on his kneeling form, his free hand smoothing over the silken cloth holding his hair back, "That's the first time you've gone against my wishes, Adrian."

"Yes, well, if you keep doing stupid things like this it'll happen more often." He muttered darkly.

Julien chuckled softly as Adrian twisted his hand back and forth, the light catching each shard-the splintering rainbow of colors dancing across the table as Adrian gingerly pulled them from the torn flesh.

"I think I prefer this side of you."

"What, the pissed-off version? Believe me; it's not as pretty as you think."

"Is that why you hide it so much? The subdued act is fetching, but I doubted it's authenticity that first night we met."

"A sulky slave gets beaten a lot more than a complacent one."

"You weren't born a slave though."

"No, that was a gift from the King's bastard Redcoats, nice lot that they are."

"Adrian, if you stay with us you will probably see more of them. The King chases us because we hold orders from his Holiness the Pope. I disappeared the night of my ordination, I heard about Katrina from the Abbey Prioress and left the same day. I never took my vows and I haven't spoken to my father since. That was eight years ago."

"If your father was so instant about you becoming a priest then how did you become a Captain?"

"No, it's not that he wanted me to become a priest exactly, he wanted me under his thumb. A co-conspirator to his insane idea about world domination though unholy means."

"I don't understand." Adrian shook his head confused.

"He wanted me to do his bidding, Adrian. To be a tool he could hold our mutual blood over and force to do his dirty work. I refused. When I left for Scotland I got into several scrapes. I learned to use the sword out of shear desperation from a man that tried to take my purse and life in the back woods of France. He sliced through my cloak hood and my right eye before I was able to block. I learned from my mistakes after that.

There was an old woman who took me in and nursed me back to health. She told me of how her granddaughter had been taken and sold off to the soldiers that were garrisoned in a nearby town. To thank her for her kindness I helped her granddaughter escape. Had to burn the garrison down in the process, but…. The girl was proficient in sword play and taught me the basics, the rest I picked up on my own. It wasn't pretty, but it worked."

"Your eye. The monocle then is because it was cut?"

"Ah, actually I'm blind in the eye, but if I wear the monocle people just think my vision's bad, they don't know that it's a true blind spot. It's easy to deceive most people with it."

"Why bother to wear one at all then?"

"Because it's quite obvious that I'm blind without it obscuring the actual eye. That's not the purpose of this story though. You asked how I became a Captain. Through several trails I finally managed to make my way to Scotland, only to find that to contain the plague the entire village and the corpses had been razed. Burnt timbers and smoldering embers were the only thing I found. Without a body to even bury I left England entirely. I wandered, caught a ship bound for the Caribbean and spent a year at a small parish in Jamaica before I took up working on a ship.

The Captain said he saw potential in me. He took me under wing and taught me from the running of a ship from the bowels to the crow's nest and though at times I would have sworn he was sent straight from Hell to torment me it was good training. After a year of traveling with him he set me up as his personal steward. I learned plot setting, hall management and how to judge the feel of a man. In another year I became second mate and then first. Technically speaking I've only been a Captain for two years now."

Adrian gaped at him wide eyed, "Two years?!!"

"Yes well, the crew's been together so long if feels longer I suppose." He smiled sheepishly as Adrian finished bandaging his hand and sat back, staring at him incredulously.

"How long?"

"Eh?"

"How long has this crew been together?"

"Well, Yvonne was the girl from France, Sebastian and Gregory were from Jamaica, as were most of the original crew, Pietro and Giovanni were from when we finally went back to Italy…"

Adrian shook his head as Julien hunched over his knees, ticking off the people on his freshly bandaged fingers.

"No, that's fine, I get it. So you took over from the old Captain?"

"Yes. When I finally told him why a nice, well bred, young man like myself was scouring decks for a meal and some place to sleep he grew dark and distant. It was about a week after that he started my training. I think he planned on me taking over from the beginning. I had the aptitude for running a ship I just didn't have the practical experience. Four years by his side fixed that. It was on my fifth year that he told me we were going back to Italy. I about quit right then. But he looked so somber, so…old. I knew then that he had been training me for a purpose bigger than myself.

When we left port half our crew had been replaced with dour looking men and a few faces I recognized; the priest and his ward from the parish I'd stayed in for example. It was…oddly comforting, knowing that I wasn't alone. The Captain finally took me aside that night and explained that he knew of my father. He told me a dozen years before he'd been one of a handful of men that had escaped from a raid by La Rosa on a prominent Italian family. Though they were mafioso they had been good to him and his men. The crew that was still with him were all from that time.

I asked why we were going back now and he replied that his Lord and Lady should be old enough to come out of hiding now. He had left them with his sister in Sicily under assumed names and that, with our help, he could finally take them back. Quite frankly I was shocked. Five years and he'd never told me about this side of his past. Of course I had nothing really keeping me in Jamaica. No friends that weren't already on the ship and no family left that I wanted to claim as my own, so I stayed. When we pulled into port he told the men I was Julien Hartford, Captain of The Evangelique out of King's Town, Jamaica. An assumed name was better than nothing, and since I hated the touch of him my birth name invoked I was perfectly fine with abandoning my past.

I good letter of mark from the Governor there had assisted in our receiving a mark from the Vatican to serve as Privateers flying His Holiness's colors. Somehow the entire trip was less eventful than I imagined. We left for Sicily and then the British coast without incident and continued on until we found the Lizard's Head. I was expecting a shout to be raised every time a member of the guard crossed our paths, but nothing happened. It was almost disappointing, knowing that no one was watching for us. A sense of dread set in amongst the crew. We all believed a storm was brewing, and when one didn't, we made one."

"Wait, wait!" Adrian interrupted abruptly, "You're name's not _Julien_?!"

"All of this and that's the point you focus on?" Julien sat dumbfounded.

"Hey, shit happens, but I didn't change my name because of it. So what is it, really?"

"Julien Hartford."

"No, I mean the one from before."

"Hartford was my mother's name. I gave it up when I entered the seminary, and took it back when I was reborn in that dead Hell in Scotland. I will not speak my first name."

"Julien…"

"Please Adrian, just leave it for now. I'm not…I'm not ready to say it out loud yet, alright?"

Adrian sat back and pouted. He was being childish about the whole thing, and he did want to hear the rest of the story but…

"Captain!" Gregory burst through the door startling Adrian so bad he about tipped over.

"Gregory…must I remind you every time to knock before barging in?"

"But Sir, we're here! Ms. Lauren's place is just around the next bend!"

"Ah, then Giovanni will want me to take over at the helm. Very well, I'll be right up Gregory, please let him know."

"YES, SIR!!" Gregory saluted sloppily and bounded out of the room, the force of his slamming the door making the pictured frames by the door clatter dangerously.

"I swear, that boy doesn't know his own strength. Well Adrian, you'll see the rest of the tale shortly, care to join me topside?"

"I'm not going anywhere before you answer me one question."

Julien narrowed his eyes at Adrian as the other drew himself up to his full height and stalked closer to him.

"And what would that be, Adrian?"

Leaning down Adrian cupped Julien's chin with salt-crusted fingers and stared into his eyes, "Am I a hindrance to your mission? When it's all said and done, will the man I've come to know as 'Julien' disappear from my side?"

"That's two questions, but you are not a hindrance, and even if 'Julien' disappears, I will not. Is that good enough for you?"

Julien had a single, heart-stopping moment when Adrian closed his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Captain." Adrian's slipped open as he smirked sultrily and stole Julien's breath away, along with his lips.

It was quick, not chaste, but not as heated as some of theirs had been and Julien realized that it was mainly because Pietro was standing in the doorway with a dry look on his face, a single, thick eyebrow raised condescendingly at them.

Breaking away Adrian smiled openly at the man and clasped his shoulder as he walked up to him, "So, this Ms. Lauren, what kind of Lady is she, Peter?"

"Pe..Peter?" the other stuttered surprised, but let Adrian lead him away down the corridor.

Julien stood there dazed, his fingers lightly fondling his lips and a slow smile spreading across them as he whispered into the empty room, "Forgive me, Katrina. I think I've really fallen for him. God may curse me, but I shalln't give him up like I did you. Not even to _him_. I will protect him. I will."

Grabbing his gloves off the table he tossed his cloak over his shoulders and left the room quietly.

***


	5. We're off to storm the castle!

_**AN: Ok, there seems to be some name confusion, so let me spell it out for everyone:**_

_**Hakkai = Julien**_

_**Gojyo = Adrian**_

_**Goku = Gregory **_

_**Sanzo = Sebastian**_

_**Kougaji = Gino which is short for Giovanni **_

_**(this really is an Italian nickname & yes, I know ppl with this name)  
**_

_**Pietro = Doku**_

_**Yvonne = Yaonne**_

_**Lirin = Lauren**_

_**Others to be announced in later chapters. :) Hope this helps! Enjoy!!  
**_

* * *

_**Ch. 5 We're off to storm the Castle!**_

The roar of the surf crashing against the jagged cliff face was nothing compared to the din as Adrian walked through the bright red doors of The Lizard's Head Tavern. 'Ms. Lauren' was a tightly compact little ball of Hell's fire and children's laughter all wrapped up in mismatched finery and work clothes. She'd maybe said a dozen words to them in the space of two seconds before bouncing, and really, there was no other word for it, but bouncing into Giovanni's arms.

Adrian stood dumbfounded at the sight. The stoic, cold-faced first mate Giovanni all smiles and laughter for her antics and cheery disposition as she climbed over him and into Pietro's arms.

"Um…"

A soft giggle wafted up from his elbow.

"Yvonne?"

"Ms. Lauren is Gino's sister. Pietro is their bodyguard, they've all known each other most of their lives."

Adrian's eyes grew wide as he started putting the facts together, "Then the kids from Sicily…"

"Are those two, yes. Giovanni and Lorenza. Gino and Ms. Lauren here. Be careful who you say their real names to, they are still wanted by La Rosa."

Adrian glanced down at her and smiled. He knew _that_ look, "You love him."

"Eh?! Ah, um…well, no, not really, I mean, I greatly admire him, taking care of his sister all these years, suffering being apart, and um…"

"You're very pretty when you're flustered, you know that? I can understand it though, and I think I know why Julien took them on. Gino can do what he couldn't. I'm happy, not everything surrounding him is tarnished then. You all really are like a family, aren't you?" He asked wistfully, watching the happy scene unfold.

"There's always room for one more, Mr. Adrian, if the Captain wants it."

"Well, family don't call each other so formally, do they? Please Yvonne, for the tenth time since waking, will you please just call me Adrian. Even that prick Sebastian does, and he hates me!"

"Eh, Sebastian hates everyone; don't take it to heart Adrian." Said a happy-go-lucky voice from in front of them.

"Gregory, you know better than to get ale on your own, you're not old enough to be drinking with the adults!" Yvonne admonished.

Gregory stuck his tongue out at her as she took the platter of ales away from him and wove through the crowd to Gino and Pietro's sides.

"Am too, I'm seventeen for Pete's sake! Why does she always treat me like a kid?"

Slinging a friendly arm over the kid's shoulders he steered them over to the table Julien and Sebastian were sitting at in a corner. "Don't get down, kid, that's a woman's job. If she doesn't pester you, then she doesn't care about you. So cheer up, I'm sure they have something on tap we can get you."

"No. Sebastian and the Captain won't let me drink either, something about me not knowing my own strength and arm wrestling, I don't really get it." He continued to grumble as they slid in next to the other two men and Sebastian slid a sarsaparilla in front of him. He stifled a groan and drew lazy lines in the rivulets of condensation slipping down the glassy surface, head cushioned on his arm across the table top. Sebastian glanced at him once, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he turned away and lit up a beedi.

"So, Yvonne told me about the kids, she's quite the bundle of energy, isn't she? Could probably even give our monkey boy here a run for his money."

"I am not a fucking monkey!"

***WHACK***

"Ow!!! Se~bas~tain!! Why'd you do that?" Holding his head in his hands, Gregory looked up in shocked indignation at the priest.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to fucking curse?"

"You do it all the time!"

"And if I told you to throw yourself off the cliffs would you do that too?!"

"YES!"

Sebastian ground his teeth so hard the beedi split in two, "What kind of fucking moron are you?" After a few minutes of watching Sebastian wail on Gregory, Julien prodded Adrian from the table with a heavy sigh.

"Are they always like that?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Wait though, towards dawn you'll understand that it's not as abusive as it seems."

"Highly doubt that one." He muttered under his breath.

"Hey!"

"Gah! What the?!" Adrian was suddenly flat on his back staring at the cracked ceiling paint and heavy planks of the tavern, an auburn haired, bright eyed Ms. Lauren sitting square on his chest and blinking widely into his face.

"I don't know you; Cap't brought you, right, right? I'm right aren't I? Pietro says you're a good fighter; you look kind of puny to me though, not like my brother, he's a great fighter! You should see, you should see!"

"Lauren, he might have better chances seeing if you hadn't tackled him. Perhaps you could let him up know, yes?" Julien's soft voice and gentle hands effortlessly pried the girl from his bruised rib cage as he sat up coughing.

"Ow. Girl packs a punch." He groaned while getting to his feet.

"I apologize for my sister, Adrian. She can be a bit…rambunctious. Are you hurt?" Gino's voice was a soft baritone, nice and calming but with an edge of steel behind it. He sounded a bit like Julien when they'd first met, cautious though slightly interested.

"I'm good, thanks. Hell of a sister you've got there. Spirited." He smiled brightly as he took Gino's offered hand and pulled himself away from the wall.

"Yes, but she's a good kid. She took this place over after kicking the old owner out. He wasn't nice to the girls you see."

"Yeah, I can see how that might upset her."

"Touch her again and I will toss you down the cliff face myself! You hear me?!"

Gino groaned and shook his head, "Sorry, I have to see what the problem is."

"No damn serving wench's going to tell me what to do! You bitch!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you, you lousy excuse for a man!" Adrian watched as Lauren cocked her fist back and swung, only to be caught by Gino.

"Lauren…enough. Our apologies, sir, but I believe the girl's are done for the night, why don't I help you settle your tab before you leave?"

"Fuck off kid! The brat and I aren't finished yet; I'll take the insult out of her hide!"

Gino's entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat. Too swiftly for the other man to notice it was as if the entire room had gone deadly silent and icy. Suddenly there were a dozen men with sharp knives in a tight ring around Gino and Adrian found himself standing shoulder to shoulder with Pietro and Gregory.

"I do believe you are mistaken on that matter. Now, please settle your tab and leave."

There was the jingle of coins as they hit the table and the man and his friends were backing out the doorway before most of the normal clamor of the place resumed its unholy din.

"Lauren…" Gino turned on his little sister, dagger snicking back into its sheath as he backed her up into the bar.

"But, brother, they know the rules, no touching of the girls! I'm not going to cow down and have this place turn back into that horrible brothel I found it in!"

Gino sighed dramatically and reached out to ruffle the wavy copper-brown hair of the girl. "I understand, but could you maybe hire a few more men to help you with the unrulies? We won't always be here to save you."

"I could have kicked him out myself! I didn't need you to interfere."

"Lauren…"

"Eh! Really?!"

The two turned and stared at Adrian.

"What!?" Gino's response was agitated, distracted, and precisely what Adrian was hoping for.

"You really can see France from here! Gino! Peter! You see? You see it?!" Adrian grabbed Pietro's collar and dragged him to the window, pointing like a five year old at the hazy image of Monte Saint Michel on the horizon.

Julien chuckled softly and smiled benignly at Gino who just stood gaping at the man.

"Well, what do you think now, Gino?" He murmured kindly.

"I think your man is the smartest idiot I've ever met, Captain. He's got my leave to stay if he wants. I'm going upstairs for a bit. Call me for dinner, will you?" shaking his head he caught Adrian's eye as he left and smiled. _Not too bad_, he thought, inclining his head slightly, _not too bad_.

***


	6. Out of the Mouths of Babes

_**Ch. 6 Out of the Mouths of Babes**_

Dinner was an interesting mixture of friendly competitiveness and heart wrenching terror. Lauren had insisted on showing Adrian the 'best seat in the house' for their meal. Personally, Adrian could have done without it. He'd much rather be down in the common room, cracking jokes with the crew and flirting with the serving girls, but Lauren's obvious enthusiasm at including him had been hard to turn down. _This_, however, was not what he was expecting.

Gregory bounded over to the railing-launching himself at the rickety piece of water rotten wood, giggling manically as he spun out over _nothing_, only to twist back at the last minute and land hard on the widow's walk. Adrian breathed a sigh of relief when Sebastian grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck and hauled him back beside him, his nails denting the sun kissed skin in a vice-like grip. At least he wasn't the only one petrified by the boy's reckless abandonment.

"Aw~, but Sebastian…" he started.

"Greg. No more." Adrian stared open mouthed at the subtle tenderness Sebastian's voice and actions displayed as the moody blond smoothed the pads of his fingers over the nail marks and lightly ruffled the copper-brown hair at the nape of his neck.

Gregory bowed his head and leaned against him for a moment before walking slowly to the prepared table and sitting down. Looping his ankle around the leg of the chair next to him he pulled it out as well. Sebastian waited until the others had wandered off to their respective chairs before taking the offered place and slouching down in the seat, hands already looking for his next smoke. If Adrian hadn't witnessed the whole scene from beginning to end he might not have believed it and wondered briefly if this had been what Julien had been referring to back in their cabin.

The rest of the dinner was rather uneventful, everyone seemed to feel that silence was the most appropriate course of action, of course 'everyone' never seemed to include kids and Gregory and Lauren took full advantage of that fact. They fought over everything, from the first bowl of soup to the last honey-roll in the basket, but even their friendly banter couldn't break the weird spell that seemed to hang over them all expectantly.

Sitting beside him Julien leaned over and murmured in his ear, "It's the Siren's call."

"The what?"

"The Siren's call. Listen, do you hear the wailing?" Julien pressed up against him, their shoulders brushing as pale fingers slipped ruby hair behind his ear and nudged his chin to catch the faint sound wafting up from the pounding surf below them.

"What is it?" Adrian asked entranced.

"The sound of the sea wind blowing over cave openings and rocks, but the sound is eerie is it not?" He trembled slightly and glanced at where Julien's hand rested lightly on the table.

Giovanni leaned across the table conspiratorially and whispered, "They say it is the sound of a captain's widow. She waited for her love to return and when the priest came to tell her he'd been lost at see, she threw herself in from this very walkway, only to have him come home the next night! When he saw her lifeless body being pulled out by the waves he walked in after her, hat and all. They never saw either of them again. Good story, no?"

"Gino…" Peitro glanced between Adrian's pale face and Giovanni's cocky one, sighed and turned back to Adrian, "It's just a story to frighten little children, Adrian, don't take it to heart. The sound…you forget about it in time, but it does make one nervous the first time they hear it."

Adrian rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and sputter-laughed, "Ah, well, I was just wondering why everyone was so quiet, you know? It wasn't really the story or anything…"

"Captain." All eyes turned to Yvonne's raised voice by the railing. Her dainty arm outstretched as a falcon alighted on it, claws prickling the alabaster skin as it walked up her arm and onto her shoulder.

"Ah, a message from J then. What does it say Yvonne?" Julien asked quizzically as she pulled the rolled parchment from the small leather carry tube on the bird's ankle and scanned the document.

"Capt..ain…" she whispered, a terrified quake to her tone. Julien was up and out of his chair in a heartbeat, strong arm looping around her waist and pulling her to an open chair as she near wilted in his arms.

Glancing over the message quickly he cursed, "Madre de Dios. That bastard's done it this time, I swear. Peitro, Gregory, get the men together, we leave at first light for Angola." Adrian glanced around nervously as the others scrapped their chairs back and rushed down the widow's walk towards the tavern's main floor.

"Julien?"

"Adrian, Sebastian, Giovanni, come with me. Lorenza, can you look after Yvonne?"

"Of course, Captain, leave her to me." Adrian gawked at the suddenly mature voice emanating from Ms. Lauren in surprise.

"What? I'm the same age as Gregory you know, it's just more fun to act like a spoiled kid around my big brother. Go, I'll take care of her." If it hadn't been for the face splitting grin and cocky attitude that cracked her face like a cantaloupe he might have balked, but the smile was contagious and hours later as he felt his insides churn for the hundredth time since they entered the real ocean, he thanked her for it.

***

Squeezing into Julien's room at the tavern, the four of them peered down over a large sea chart and several smaller inland maps. Julien circled three small islands off the Angolan coast.

"St. Thomas, Isle du Prince, and the Isle du Fernando off the coast of Angola in the Gulf of Guinee are our targets. As you know, the last time we saw the Cardinal was on St. Thomas eight months ago. We stopped his slave ring then by blowing up his ship. We don't have that luxury now. According to J, he's been spotted holing in up in an abandoned look-out tower on the larger Isle du Prince. There have been several ships docking on the East side of the island closest to shore that are far to weighted down in the stern the next evening when they depart."

"Another slave ring?" Sebastian asked annoyed.

"J doesn't think so. The ships are all proudly flying their flags right before they dock: British, French, Spanish, Italian." Julien ticked off the countries on his fingers as he spoke. "Seems he's being smart about, one ship ever forth-night and they only stay docked for the single night. Considering they all own land in the region it's not unusual to see the different ships about either."

"Portuguese? It's their island after all." Giovanni asked brusquely, waving a hand at the maps.

"No, that's what got him suspicious. Everyone and their brother have been to the island but the one's who own it. It doesn't appear that he's smuggling humans this time, but weapons. There have been a lot of Asian merchants coming in from the east and that normally means gunpowder. We need to get in there and make sure he's one, not getting ready to start a war, and two, if given the chance kill him once and for all."

"So we leave at first light?" Giovanni was already scratching out routes on scrap paper.

"Yes, sorry everyone." He made a point of catching each of their eyes, though Adrian noticed he lingered on Sebastian's a moment longer than normal.

"Tch! Fine, whatever. Let's just get the prick this time so we can finally get some peace and quiet around here." Sebastian scoffed at them before pushing off the table and stamping to the door. "I'm going to bed; first person that disturbs me before the sun is up will die."

"Of course, Sebastian, good night." Julien smiled benignly as Giovanni smirked at him. Adrian just felt lost.

"What the hell crawled up his butt?" He grumbled, the innocent question sending both men into fits of laughter.

"A…Adrian…oh my..." Julien wiped his eyes, tears of laughter still streaking his cheeks.

"Pft! I like your man more and more, Captain. I didn't think you'd get it that quickly, boy. Hah!" Giovanni slung a companionable arm around Adrian's shoulder and dragged him to the doorway where he slowly cracked it just far enough to allow Adrian to see Sebastian and Gregory slipping into a room down the hall.

From the goofy look plastered across Gregory's face and Sebastian's bright red blush he figured there were at least two more of the crew who would never be able to bad mouth his preferences. He was starting to like this place more and more.

"So, we leave for Africa in the morning?" He asked, door clicking shut behind him.

"It appears so."

"Then can I be a selfish sod and ask Gino to leave us alone for the rest of the night, or do you need to work out the details a bit more?"

With a friendly chuckle Giovanni cleared his throat and bowed himself out of their room, much to Adrian's satisfaction. Seeing that tiny glint in Julien's eyes as the man dropped his doublet on the nearest chair and kicked his boots off made him even happier.

***

TBC.


	7. Sticks and Stones

_Ch. 7 Sticks and Stones_

The first time he'd felt this connection with Julien, the feel of another person literally crawling inside you, he couldn't appreciate it. He was just too overwhelmed by the taste and touch and _feel_ of the man to focus on the physical position of arms and legs. Now, as they slid together, bodies' slick with sweat, the pulsing of their bodies trying to fuse together, wrapped in each other's arms, long legs tangled and mouths clutching frantically at snowy or gilded skin, depending of course on whose side you were taking, he realized that the best sex in the world couldn't compare to this. This wasn't just a passing fancy or some deviant behavior; this was the true mating of kindred souls and perfectly aligned bodies. This was love.

Stretching out on his side, sheet bunched up under his arms as Julien snuggled in against his chest, the soft auburn hair tickling his nose he sighed contentedly.

"Julien?"

"Mmm?" Julien hummed sleepily, rubbing his face back and forth across the broad chest like a cat.

"What happens after all this is all over?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we're off to capture or kill you're…uh…the Cardinal, right? What happens after that? Will you continue to be a pirate?"

"Privateer and I am not sure. I suppose it all depends on where you go."

"Me?"

"Yes. You didn't think I'd throw you to the wolves when this was done, did you?" Julien sat up shocked.

Adrian had the decency to blush at least, eyes downcast as he pulled the stiff form of his lover back against his chest. He sighed softly, carding long fingers through short chopped hair and lightly kissed a pale temple. "Honestly, I've never thought much about the future before. I've never wanted to. My life has been…well, it hasn't exactly been secure. Between my parents deaths and then my gran's, then the Red Coats…it was better not to think about the things I couldn't change."

"And now?" Julien gently prodded his breath a warm puff against Adrian's chest.

Adrian shivered slightly and pulled Julien closer. "Now I'm terrified what I have will be taken from me. I've never had anyone want me to stay, Julien. Never wanted to stay myself, so this…." He waved at the warm wooden room with its tiny multi-faceted windows and carefully organized shelves and desk. "I'm not sure what to make of this."

Julien was quiet for so long he thought the man might have fallen asleep. "Adrian?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to stay with me? Even if I leave the _Evangelique_ and become a school teacher in some far-off land?"

Adrian stifled a laugh at the image of his dashing pirate dressed in Headmaster's robes in his mind's eye before tilting Julien's chin up with a finger. Kissing the tip of his nose lightly he rested his brow against Julien's, dragging the sweat damp fringe away from his eyes.

"I would leave if you wanted me to." He whispered throat constricting tightly as he struggled to say the words.

"I do not!" Julien replied fiercely, rising up onto his knees he pushed the other onto his back before straddling the shocked red-head. Placing flattened palms on broad shoulders he bore Adrian deeper into the soft bedding, his whole weight behind the gesture.

"I do not take lovers to my bed casually, Adrian, and I am possessive to the point of villainy should something or _someone_ try to take what I have claimed as my own! You have accepted my mark and my bed; do you now wish to leave it?"

Adrian stared wide-eyed up into flashing storm-laden eyes and breathed a shaky sigh of relief, "No. No, love. I'd take your name if I could, but that will never be our destiny, so I give you my body and soul in its place."

Julien felt Adrian go lip, his head lolling to the side and baring his throat in supplication. It was a very animalistic thing to do and Julien understood at once that what he was being offered was more than just the physical, Adrian was truly offering up his heart and soul to him. Growling softly in the back of his throat Julien leaned down and licked across the throbbing pulse point at the side on his neck.

Adrien whimpered softly as teeth scrapped across the skin before a hot tongue salved at the roughened red marks the points made. His body trembled at his command to keep docile and let Julien lead as always. He stayed still as that cool body slithered down his feverish one, the touch eliciting damnable images that would surely send his immortal soul straight to hell, but as Julien wrapped his hot mouth around him, teasing him with a painfully slow embrace of a more intimate kind, he couldn't have cared less.

A few quick strokes had him close to orgasm again, his vision swimmy behind tightly clenched lids when cold air shocked him. Julien had sat up, shifting higher onto his thighs, his legs splayed on either side of his and an oil slicked finger gently prodding his own body open while his other hand slid lightly up and down Adrian's own flesh.

He gasped as, head thrown back, Julien slipped over him, his back arching as he took him up to the hilt in little shifting movements than sent Adrian reeling.

"Gah! Oh, oh _fuck_, Julien, sweet merciful lady! Julie, love, love you shouldn't. Ha! Dear God don't move, _pleasepleasepleas_e, not yet, Julien." He babbled incoherently for several long minutes as Julien shifted atop him, their bodies fitting together seamlessly until the feel of being encased in such tight heat made Adrian want to lay supplicant on Julien's alter. Anything his lover wanted he could have in that minute. And then he moved.

Adrian hadn't thought the world could get any better, but the slow, soul shaking undulations as Julien rocked his hips up and down, back and forward made him truly believe there was a God and that he was a sick fucker too, for forbidding this to his children. This went beyond anything he could ever hope to make into something poetic and beautiful, it was raw and savage and fierce and beneath everything he could feel Julien's iron will screaming at the tops of his lungs: _Mine_.

Adrian could only hold on and whisper, _yes_.

TBC


	8. Cry me a River

_Ch. 8 Cry me a River_

"This sucks." Adrian grumbled, bracing his hands flat above his head on the wall surrounding the small bay window, his feet planted firmly, bootless of course, against the other side. He'd just managed to wedge himself in nice and tightly to avoid being thrown about as the ship weaned and cut back across her own wake, when Sebastian kicked open the door unannounced. The thin blond had both his trademark beadi and scowl plastered on his pinched face, his lips curled up in diversion as he stomped across the room towards him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Adrian ground out, he'd already awoken to a pounding headache thanks to the gale they sailed into last night. Damn bulkhead always seemed to be where his right temple was want to go and now their pissy priest had to come ruin his only chance to look over the smaller shipping lane maps Julien had suggested he familiarize himself with. Lovely.

Sebastian glanced down his nose at the crumpled edges of parchment and leather in Adrian's fist, snorted, and then turned on his heel and stomped over to Julien's liquor cabinet, throwing the latched door open with a rattling of glass that set Adrian's teeth on edge.

Holding up a fine bottle of 23 year old Scotch he flicked a withering look back at Adrian before prying the cork out with his bright white teeth and gulping down a good twin shots worth of the amber liquid. With his freehand he slammed the cork back into place, placed the bottle back in the cabinet, and withdrew from the room silently.

Adrian sat there bemused for a long moment until his right leg twinged painfully, the cramp all but toppling him from the small settee and onto the hard wooden planked floor of the cabin and sending the packet of loose papers and maps hither and thither across the floor, the seat, and himself. He sat there doubled over, rubbing his spasiming calf when Julien walked in and stopped dead, a look of confoundedness blanketing his normally lovely features.

"Do I even want to know what happened here?" Julien asked, a small smile toying with the corner of his lips.

"No." Adrian grunted, shaking his traitorous leg while trying to climb to his unsteady feet.

Julien clucked his tongue and walked over, lugging Adrian against him as the ship crested yet another wave and Adrian found his feet deciding to sit this one out as well.

"Pray tell me we are almost out of the storm?" he whined, head bowed onto Julien's shoulder, the image of dejection.

Julien laughed softly, pulled Adrian's hair back away from his face where deft fingers lightly braided the ends a few plates and then kissed his forehead before stepping back.

"Not yet, but soon, we should make landfall in Lisboa by sunset, what say you to a well earned night on the town?"

Personally, Julien thought Adrian looked very much like the cocker spaniel his mother had when he was a boy with his big, shinning eyes. He could almost imagine the trembling ears and wagging tail.

"I take that as a 'yes'? Well, we should be putting into port in a few hours; perhaps you can give Pietro a hand with the boys below? We've got a few provisions to offload and I'm needed on deck."

Adrian made a sloppy salute and grinned broadly at Julien's exasperated sigh which was only partially undone by the energetic kiss he pulled Adrian in for a moment later.

"Tonight I will show you the white washed Belem Tower and bustling Rua de Vitoria, the glistening São Nicolau with its gas lamps and church flags fluttering in the evening air as the weathered tios et tias congregate after the bishops call out 'Ite, missa est' to conclude service. I shall show you the heaven and hell that is the seat of Catholicism in Portugal and we shall drink and dance under the stars."

Adrian leaned heavily against Julien as he spoke, his voice low and mysterious with a heavy drawl as he easily slipped into the rolling Portuguese tongue. He felt caught up, dizzy and more than a little light headed as it was, and with each warm, honeyed breath Julien breathed against his skin, he felt the familiar tingle of electricity arch between them.

"One day," he groaned, pulling back slightly to peer down into Julien's green eyes, a long fingered hand lightly cupping a pale cheek as he brushed the pad of his thumb across a pouty lip, "One day it shall be _I_ showing the world to _you_ Julien, do not forget that we are partners in this endeavor called life. I would not have you think less of me simply because I have not been to all the places you have."

"I would never dare dear heart. When this is all done we shall go somewhere neither of us has been, and we shall explore together the dark, wild lands at the far ends of the earth should you desire."

Adrian chuckled as he kissed the corner of Julien's mouth, I don't know about the dark corners of the world, but perhaps the orient or we could try the Americas to the west. Anywhere but back to England I think."

"Aye, neither England nor Italy hold any place in my heart, except perhaps Lizard's End, but even that I can do without."

"We shall speak again when we have buried a few enemies, and plundered a few ships, in the meantime, I think Pietro has been waiting patently enough in the lintel, don't you?"

Julien stepped back and smiled brightly at his bowsen who just shook his head and stepped out of the way, bring up the rear as the two men left the cabin with only a minor stop for Adrian to locate and stomp into his boots. The burly man smiled toothily at Adrian as he clasped his on the shoulder and went out to meet what remained of the day.

TBC


End file.
